Chapter Sixteen
The next morning, Caroline went for a run on the Rio Grande Trail. The air was chilly, but the views—the craggy, snow-crested peaks of Snowmass and Aspen Highlands towering above her, and the frozen Roaring Fork River below—were breathtaking.
Afterward she took a hot bath and treated herself to a room-service breakfast of oat milk pancakes, coffee, and eggs the way her mother used to make them: sunny-side up with sliced avocado and salsa.
She was feeling happier than she had in months. Reading Nina’s letters always made her feel better. Nina was a wonderful writer; her words transported Caroline to another time and place. She wondered again if Nina ever finished her manuscript. But Anne would have had every publisher in New York excited about it. Something must have happened to stop her from completing it.
And it had been thrilling to learn something new about Anne’s lover. He lived in Philadelphia and he was interested in the Civil War. Caroline tried to picture him. Was he very tall? What color was his hair and did he have kind eyes and a warm smile?
Then there was Max. It had been so pleasant spending the evening together without wondering how far things would progress, or whether this was the night that she’d sleep with him. And she loved being around Lily. Lily made her laugh; she was sweet and mature at the same time. Caroline wondered if she and Max could have a future if they lived in the same place. But she quickly put the thought out of her mind. They hadn’t done anything more than kiss, and she didn’t know if the attraction would last. Even if it did, this was no time to rethink her rules. She had to edit Nick’s manuscript and focus on her career.
Caroline’s phone rang as she was finishing her second cup of coffee. Daphne’s number flashed on the screen.
“Where are you? I’ve been calling for ages,” Daphne demanded.
“I had my phone on silent. I went for a run and took a bath,” Caroline said happily. “I’m eating sunny-side-up eggs, the way Mom made them. You should join me.”
“I’m not hungry, but I need to talk to you.”
“Why didn’t you text?” Caroline asked.
“I didn’t want Luke to see.” Daphne’s voice wobbled. “I can’t tell you over the phone. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
When Caroline opened the door, she was shocked at Daphne’s appearance. Daphne’s hair had escaped its ponytail and there were circles under her eyes. She wasn’t wearing makeup and her cheeks were pale.
Caroline offered Daphne a sunny-side-up egg but Daphne shook her head.
“I couldn’t even manage a slice of toast at breakfast. I had to pretend to Luke that I already ate.”
“Are you pregnant?” Caroline asked in alarm.
Daphne’s large blue eyes filled with tears.
“Of course I’m not pregnant. I don’t know if there’s going to be a wedding. I found out something about Luke and I don’t know what to do.”
A feeling of dread formed in Caroline’s stomach. She didn’t want Daphne to get hurt.
“Found out what?” she asked.
Daphne pulled out her phone. She thrust it at Caroline. “Read this.”
It was a column in the New York Times food section.
Caroline read out loud:
“‘With signed paintings by Picasso on its hotel’s walls, and the grave of Marc Chagall in its graveyard, the picturesque French village of Saint-Paul-de-Vence had everything except a Michelin star restaurant. Until now. The husband-and-wife restaurant duo Allan and Evelyn Bernard have a new Michelin star to accompany the one they received for Bernard’s in Paris. Le Miel received its star only six months after opening, and promises to be a great addition to the food scene in the hill towns of the French Riviera.’”
Caroline stopped reading. “What does this have to do with Luke?”
Daphne looked even more wretched. She let out a sigh.
“I read about Bernard’s a few years ago, it’s one of the hottest petits plats restaurants in Paris.” She took a deep breath. “Allan and Evelyn Bernard are Luke’s parents.”
Caroline scanned the article again. There was a photo of a couple in their late fifties. The woman was attractive; the man had silvery hair and sharp cheekbones.
“I don’t understand, why didn’t he tell you?”
“I don’t know, and I can’t ask him. He’ll think I was snooping,” Daphne said.
Daphne had been doing a Google search for an image of Luke’s restaurant in Hudson to show the Realtor. Instead, she found the article.
“Luke said he grew up on a farm in Wisconsin, I assumed his parents were farmers,” Daphne said. “When his mother called from Paris, I didn’t mention it to him. I wanted him to tell me they were in Paris himself.”
Suddenly, Daphne’s expression changed. Her eyes brightened.
“If you ask about his parents, he’ll know we discussed it. If Max brought it up, he’d have to answer Max’s questions.”
“Max!” Caroline exclaimed.
Daphne grew excited. “He can say he’s planning a trip to France, and he’s going to try some Michelin-star restaurants.”
“I’ve only known Max for a few days,” Caroline replied doubtfully. “I don’t want to ask him to do something underhanded.”
“We’ll all go to lunch.” Daphne ignored her. “Luke wants to thank Max for sending his doctor when he got the concussion.”
Daphne’s eyes dimmed again, and she glanced down at her engagement ring.
“You have to help. Whatever Luke’s reasons, he’s keeping something from me. I can’t marry someone with secrets. But I’m in love with him and I don’t know what to do.”
An hour later, Caroline stood at the door of the Queen Anne mansion on Walnut Street. Max answered the door. His hair was damp, and he was freshly shaven.
“When you called, I decided it was time to get off the sofa and take a shower.” He grinned, leading her inside.
Caroline handed him a box of cinnamon apple muffins.
“I picked these up for you and Lily from Paradise Bakery.” She smiled back.
“Lily is upstairs feeding the guinea pig. Apparently, Rudolph doesn’t understand he’s not really a reindeer. She’s been giving him carrots and he likes them.”
They sat in the living room. A Christmas tree strung with red and green lights stood near the window. A bowl of chestnuts sat on the coffee table, next to a silver nutcracker.
“You said you had something important to talk about,” Max said.
“It is important,” Caroline said. “It’s about Daphne.”
Max made a fake grimace.
“I thought you came over to say how disappointed you were that we couldn’t have dinner last night.”
“I am disappointed,” Caroline returned teasingly. “I’m enjoying our time together.”
“So am I.” Max nodded. “Lily commented that I was a much better patient after you left.”
Caroline told him about Luke’s parents.
“I hate to ask you to make up something,” Caroline said. “But Daphne is so upset. She hates that Luke didn’t tell her the truth.”
“You care a lot about your sister.”
Caroline nodded. “I’ve never seen her like this. She looks worse than after our mother died.”
“Of course I’ll do it,” Max agreed. “We’ll go to White House Tavern, they serve the best burgers in Aspen. I do have one condition.”
“What kind of condition?”
He leaned forward and kissed her.
“That we have a make-up date for last night. Indoor Jacuzzi at the inn, followed by cocktails at the Silver Nickel, and then room-service dinner of oysters on the half shell and sirloin tips in your room.”
Caroline pretended to think about it.
“Those are pretty strict terms. Perhaps I need some incentive.”
“Incentive?” Max repeated.
She leaned forward and kissed him. “Something like this.”
Max placed his arms around her and she let herself fall into his embrace.
“So, what do you think of my terms now?” Max asked when they parted.
“I can work with them.” Caroline tried to keep her tone serious. “In fact, I could have made them myself.”
The White House Tavern was in a white cottage on East Hopkins Avenue. Inside, there were high ceilings and timbered walls. The bar was lined with bottles, and logs crackled in the brick fireplace.
“This is the A. G. Sheppard House,” Max said when the waiter had taken their order. “Sheppard bought the lot in 1883 for three hundred dollars. The house was used as a miner’s cottage at the turn of the century. My ancestor Finn Steele owned a similar house a few doors down.”
“Max’s family has lived in Aspen for generations,” Caroline said to Daphne and Luke. “His ancestor was part of the silver rush.”
“I love Aspen’s history, it’s so different from New England,” Daphne gushed.
Daphne wore a pink cashmere turtleneck and faded jeans. Her cheeks were brushed with powder and she wore pink lipstick. But Caroline could tell that she wasn’t herself. The wonderful smile that usually lit up her whole face stopped before it reached her eyes.
Max and Luke ordered the white cheddar cheeseburgers with spicy slaw. Caroline and Daphne split a kale salad with rotisserie chicken.
“I’m sticking with the burger,” Max said when Caroline offered him some salad. “Lily fed me kale all day yesterday. I feel like her guinea pig.”
They talked about the distillery and Luke’s restaurant in Hudson.
“Owning a distillery is hard, but a restaurant must be worse,” Max said to Luke. “I spent a summer in Paris during college. I ate at the same café every day, some of the customers were so rude. They blamed the waiter that the soup was cold, or the mustard was spicy. They even complained to him about the weather.”
Luke didn’t say anything. Daphne’s shoulders tensed and she set down her fork.
“I’ve been thinking we should go to Paris for our honeymoon,” she announced.
Luke put down his burger. “But we’re using that company that decides where we go.”
Daphne told Max about Where Are the Bride and Groom. “I read some negative reviews online. One bride complained that their reservation was for a cruise down the Amazon River, even though her fiancé is allergic to mosquitoes.”
Luke turned to Daphne. “You’ve been to Paris for work, shouldn’t we go somewhere new?”
“That was ages ago.” Daphne waved her hand. “It would be so romantic to go together. We could walk in the Tuileries Garden and take a dinner cruise on the Seine.” She paused and looked at Luke. “Unless there’s a reason you don’t want to go to Paris.”
Luke smiled and squeezed her hand. “You’re the bride. We’ll do whatever you want.”
Luke and Max kept talking, but Daphne wasn’t listening. She pushed the chicken around her plate and her eyes were dangerously bright. Her hand brushed her water glass and it tipped on the table.
“Sometimes I’m so clumsy,” she sighed, inspecting her wet skirt. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”
Caroline waited a few minutes. Then she followed Daphne into the powder room.
Daphne was standing in front of the air dryer. There was no one else there.
“Don’t tell me that you spilled the water on purpose,” Caroline said.
“Of course not,” Daphne said. “You know I get clumsy when I’m upset.”
It was true. Daphne had excelled at sports in high school. She played soccer and was a starter on the volleyball team. But during her senior year, her team lost the championship volleyball game. Daphne’s ex-boyfriend attended with another girl, and Daphne fumbled her serves.
“I shouldn’t have said I wanted to go to Paris, it just popped out,” Daphne groaned. “I was the one who convinced Luke to use Where Are the Bride and Groom.”
“He must have a reason for not telling you about his parents. Maybe he isn’t close to them, or they had a falling-out,” Caroline suggested.
Daphne shook her head.
“His mother congratulated me about the wedding.”
Caroline tried again. “You keep secrets from me.”
“I tried to tell you about the engagement. Then I decided to make it a surprise.”
“I’m not talking about that. It was a few weeks after Mom died. I was at a bar with Jack, I saw you leaving with a guy,” Caroline recalled. “The next day you mentioned you spent the night at a friend’s apartment. It wasn’t my business, so I didn’t say anything.”
“I was embarrassed,” Daphne admitted. “I’m not like you, I don’t do one-night stands. But he was hot, and you know…” She gulped. “… I needed something to blot out the pain of Mom’s death.”
Caroline wanted to say there was nothing wrong with casual sex, as long as one took precautions. But this wasn’t the time. The important thing was concentrating on Daphne and Luke.
“You have to ask Luke yourself.”
“I’m not ready,” Daphne sighed. “You and Max could spend the afternoon with us, I’ll ask Luke this evening.”
Caroline had planned on going to the used bookstore and finding out more about Anne’s lover. But that would have to wait.
“I suppose I could,” Caroline said.
Daphne perked up. Her tone became brighter.
“The four of us can watch the Fat Bike Race.”
“As long as we don’t go ice-skating. Max already twisted his ankle, I don’t want it to happen again.”
They left the tavern and went to watch the start of the fat-bicycle race. The race was part of the 12 Days of Aspen. It was held at the Aspen Golf Course. Spectators wearing ski parkas lined the route, and a man holding a flag ushered the competitors across the finish line.
After the race, there was a dog fashion show. People borrowed dogs from the Aspen Animal Shelter and dressed them in costumes. The proceeds went to charity, and often the dogs were adopted after the fashion show. Caroline loved a mixed Labrador wearing a Santa hat, and Daphne fell for a terrier mix in red booties.
Now Caroline sat at the bar of the Silver Nickel, waiting for Max to arrive. The dog fashion show had run late, so they decided to skip the Jacuzzi and meet for drinks instead.
Max stood at the bar’s entrance. She was reminded of when she first saw him. She had been hesitant to talk to him because she wasn’t interested in a fling. But he had been so handsome, with those warm hazel eyes and chiseled cheekbones.
Max kissed her and sat on a stool.
“I was thinking of when we met,” Caroline said. “You offered to order the sausage fennel pizza and give me a slice. I said that was a terrible pickup line.”
“You had me all wrong,” Max returned. “I don’t do pickup lines. Besides, the sausage fennel pizza is too good to share unless it’s with someone special.”
“You couldn’t have thought I was special. You only saw me across the room.”
“You had this glow. You don’t give yourself enough credit, but you’re beautiful, Caroline.”
Caroline blushed. She shouldn’t have started this conversation.
Max touched her hand. “I’m glad you ate the pizza, and I’m glad we’re here now.”
They ordered duck fritters to share and two Sazerac cocktails. The bartender poured a small amount of absinthe into the glasses and added rye whiskey and sugar cubes.
They talked about Daphne and Luke.
“I wasn’t much help,” Max apologized.
“Did you really spend a summer in Paris?”
“Of course, I would never lie.”
“I’ve been to Madrid and London. But I never made it to Paris,” Caroline said. “I’ve always wanted to go.”
The minute Caroline said it, she regretted it. It was the kind of thing women said to move a relationship along. She blamed it on the cocktail; she should never drink anything with even a drop of absinthe—it was too strong.
“I’d say something about going together, but that would be against your rules,” Max said.
“I don’t have time to go to Paris anyway.” Caroline kept her voice light. “I’ve got to get Nick’s book into shape before I present it to my publisher.”
“If you didn’t have to work on the book, would you go to Paris with me?” Max asked.
If she was going to beat Daphne at her dare, she had to pretend she was softening her rules.
“Well, I do have to help Nick, and you’re busy at the distillery.” She gave him a flirtatious smile. “Though I don’t know anyone who can resist Paris in the spring. I’d love to visit Shakespeare and Company. It’s the most famous bookstore in the world.”
Max leaned forward and kissed her. His breath was sweet from the sugar cube. “I’ll take that as a definite maybe.”
They finished the fritters and talked about a new blend of rye whiskey Max was releasing, and Nick’s novel. Caroline was about to suggest they go upstairs and order room service when Daphne appeared.
“I found you.” Daphne rushed over to them. “You weren’t in your room, the front desk didn’t know where you’d gone.”
Daphne’s hair lay in damp clumps at her shoulders. Her lips were raw as if she’d been biting them.
“You must be freezing. Your hair is wet, you’re not wearing a jacket.” Caroline frowned.
“It started snowing and I didn’t want to go back to the room to get my jacket,” Daphne said. “Luke and I got in a fight and I left.”
“You left?” Caroline repeated.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” Daphne said. “I thought I could stay with you tonight.”
Max’s face fell. He pretended to be studying the menu.
“Unless I’m interrupting something,” Daphne said. “I could try to get my own room.”
The images that had been going through Caroline’s mind—Max and her sharing oysters on the half shell in front of her fireplace, Max leading her to the bed, Caroline taking off his sweater, seeing his naked chest for the first time—dissolved.
Caroline finished her drink. “Of course you’ll stay with me.”